


Oasis

by Not_You



Series: She Who Must Be Obeyed (And Other Stuff) [3]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Dildos, Dom/sub, F/F, Femdom, Flogging, Getting Together, Laughter During Sex, Lingerie, POV Jane Foster, Vaginal Fingering, Verbal Bondage, Workplace Relationship, Workplace Sex, shy dom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 06:37:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4337717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief account of how Jane and Darcy became an item, but mostly their first scene in the She Who Must Be Obeyed universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oasis

The thing about Darcy is that she gets Jane to do things against her own better judgment just by existing. It doesn't matter that she had been single for way too long when Darcy had come into her life, or that she had been reading up on BDSM in an attempt to somehow align her actual activities with her elaborate fantasies. Jane had fully intended to be professional and maintain her boundaries and _not_ ogle her beautiful intern. That had been an immediate failure because Darcy is _stunning_ , despite the hours she puts into looking like she just grabs the first clothing to come to hand. Falling in love with her had been a matter of weeks, the feeling rising up despite all Jane's efforts to tamp it down.

Actually giving in and saying anything to Darcy had been a much longer process, and Darcy hadn't waited for her to finish moping. Instead she had bounced into the lab one morning with Jane's missing art book, beaming. “I totally meant to hit on you before and now we might actually be compatible!”

The book in question is all lesbian bondage art, and Jane had been caught too flat-footed to say anything about aesthetic appreciation or gag gifts. Instead she had blurted, “I'm a top,” with an embarrassing note of decision. Darcy had just grinned at her, and said that was fine.

They had started slow, with movie nights and cuddling on the couch and kissing between checking boxes off on their little lists of kinks and limits, all dutifully printed out because Jane is Jane. Darcy had been very gentle with her, staying at second base until Jane was used to being touched again and only complaining a little when their first foray further had been almost completely vanilla.

Now Jane takes a deep breath, and looks over her setting. She's not really living in the lap of luxury here. Her whole research station is a crappy cinder block building, an ancient and much-abused van, and the tiny trailer she drags into the desert for a few days at a time to take specific readings. She sleeps on a flimsy cot in a room that's probably meant for storage. The place looks like a prison, and shoving the cot aside, making a pallet of blankets over an air mattress and dimming the lights hasn't helped much. The pink bulb in the lamp seems stupid now, but the spare sheets duct taped to the walls do soften things a bit.

The most important thing is that the blankets are soft enough, which they are, and that the room is nice and cool, which it is. There is also more than enough water, lube, dental dams, wet wipes, and towels. Jane is a great believer in being prepared, and at least it hasn't turned Darcy off so far. A glance at the clock tells her that Darcy must be reading her note now. Jane has left her a pretty pink envelope holding the particulars of her planned scene. If she doesn't want to do it at all she'll call for Jane to come out, if she has questions she'll come in fully-clothed with the note in her hand, and if she has no reservations at all, she'll come in naked on all fours, with the note in her teeth.

The door cracks open a moment later, and here Darcy is, looking shyly at Jane over her glasses, which are all she's wearing. She crawls gracefully, and kneels on the blankets, her arms clasped behind her back and thrusting those perfect tits forward. Jane shivers, and takes the note from her, stroking her hair with the other hand.

“Such a good girl,” she says softly. One of the few things Jane doesn't feel stupid about is her own ensemble. It's hard to go wrong with basic black, which definitely describes her only real set of lacy underwear, the garter belt and stockings that match it, and the schoolteacherish little ankle boots that Darcy likes so much.

“Thank you, mistress,” Darcy says, looking up at Jane with big, vulnerable eyes. Darcy is never vulnerable. She has a quip for every situation and her first reaction to the Second Coming would be to take a picture for Facebook, but right now she's looking up at Jane like a disapproving gesture would kill her.

Jane sets the letter aside. “Face down, dearest.”

“Yes, mistress,” Darcy whispers, and stretches out on her belly, putting her arms behind her back again as soon as she's situated. Jane takes a moment to just admire her, but then kneels beside her so she won't feel alone, gently rubbing her back and glorying in the soft, smooth skin. She always forgets how soft women are, and just how much she loves it. She says so to Darcy, massaging her lightly and carefully sweeping her hair out to the sides to expose her neck and upper back.

“You've got such nice skin that I want to mark it,” Jane coos, and Darcy whines, writhing a little on the blanket.

“Please, mistress.”

She shivers, and kisses the nape of Darcy's neck. “Yes, sweet girl. One moment.” She stands and goes to her toy chest. Most of the stuff is improvised, a clean spatula and a buckle-less belt and other household implements, but Jane does have one real flogger. It's a thing of beauty, with a sleek wooden handle and twenty-seven tails of real leather, each one incredibly soft. She runs them through her left hand for a long moment, and strokes them up and down Darcy's back. She shivers and gasps, clutching at the blankets with flattering desperation.

“You're going to count for me, dearest,” Jane says, still lazily stroking Darcy with the flogger's tails.

“Yes, mistress,” Darcy whimpers.

“You will thank me for each one and request the next.”

“Yes, mistress.”

This is just the kind of thing Darcy would usually laugh at, but right now she's breathless and completely earnest and it's the most beautiful thing Jane has ever seen. “We'll start with a dozen.”

“Yes, mistress.”

Jane kisses the back of Darcy's neck and then kneels beside her. The angle isn't good, but she shouldn't go too hard in the beginning, anyway. She starts with a sharp, light strike, and Darcy flinches and whines.

“One! Thank you, mistress, may I have another?”

Jane shudders, and falls into the rhythm so completely that she knows it will frighten her later. It's very satisfying to have Darcy so helpless and compliant, and Jane takes her time about streaking that white skin with deepest pink. There are actually thirteen strikes, because Darcy counts eleven twice, breathless and high-pitched. Each strike makes her open her legs a little more, like she can't possibly help it, and her spine arches to display parted lips and the slick gleaming between them.

Darcy mewls and squirms without a trace of shame, peering through her own dark hair over her shoulder at Jane. After the thirteenth strike she rises up on her knees and begs Jane to fuck her, voice shaking. “Please mistress,” she whines, “please, please, please...

“Yes,” she says softly, stroking Darcy's hair. She arranges her into the best position, deepening the arch of her back and making sure her knees are solidly under her and far enough apart. Once she's settled just right, all open and pink, inner lips standing open like tiny fans, Jane presses a kiss to her tailbone and then sits back to put a condom onto the handle of the flogger. “So beautiful,” she says softly, and Darcy quivers, cunt visibly clenching. Jane shudders and kneels behind her, sliding a hand up her back and just stroking the smooth skin for a while, admiring the pink flush the flogger has put on it. “Ready?” she murmurs.

Darcy just gasps, “Green!” trembling all over. Jane smiles, kissing her back again and then just sliding the tip of the flogger's handle through her gathered slick. The handle is a good shape, with a wide, round tip and a barely-thinner shaft, good for gripping. Darcy whines and arches her back even more, straining to push back on it without moving from her assigned position. Jane teases her for a little while, just stroking and pressing lightly without actually pushing in. Darcy shakes and pants, thighs flexing as she fights to stay still, letting out a miserable little cry when Jane pulls the flogger away. “Please, mistress, please!” she gasps, and Jane shudders, taking a deep breath and making the fussy little re-check of the condom that she just can't help even though it hasn't slipped at all.

“Such a good girl,” Jane says softly, and lines the handle up again, finally pushing it into Darcy. She howls, shaking as Jane bottoms out.

“Oh fuck,” Darcy gasps, her voice high and desperate, “thank you mistress thank you...” she clenches hard around the pale wood, crying out as Jane pulls out completely and then pushes the full length in again. She buries her face in the blankets, keening as her cunt drips. Jane is about that wet herself, but it doesn't matter right now. Her own arousal sits like banked fire in her belly as she finds the right angle to make Darcy scream into the blankets, her whole body shaking. When Jane finally reaches around to rub the hard little circles over her clit that she loves so much, she bucks and shudders and breaks position completely, finally just lying on her belly and humping Jane's hand through the aftershocks. “Ohh...” she whimpers, shivering to a stop at last. “Oh, mistress...”

Jane crawls over her, kissing the back of her neck and just breathing in the scent of her. “My good girl,” she coos, and Darcy sighs, completely melted. After another moment Jane rolls them onto their sides, and just holds Darcy for the fifteen minutes or so it takes her to come up, pulling a clean fold of the blanket around their rapidly-cooling skin.

“Jane?” Darcy murmurs.

“Yeah?”

“You totally need to come, and I wanna help.”

Jane laughs, shifting onto her back. “Okay.”

Darcy grins and pounces on her, giving her all the kisses they didn't have earlier as she works most of one knowledgeable hand into her and Jane strokes her own clit for about a minute and a half before she's coming so hard it makes her ears ring almost loud enough to obscure Darcy's delighted laughter.


End file.
